Hooked on Love
by Jolie en Rose
Summary: Sometimes something harmless can turn into something life-altering. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Clique.**

Have you ever been so drawn to something it literally hurt you, both physically and emotionally? I was and honestly still am an addict, but not to the "usual" vices like alcohol, narcotics, or even gambling. No, my name is Claire Lyons, and I am a Nymphomaniac.

Yes, you laugh at this affliction when you first hear about it out of nerves, discomfort, or even sheer disbelief that it is a legitimate medical condition. I definitely used to belong to the latter category. Between watching "Blades of Glory" with Will Ferrell and reading the headlines about Dave Ducovney and Christie Brinkley's most recent ex-husband, I thought it was all a facade. Terribly blown out of proportion. Sure, sex was enjoyable, but there was no way you could become ADDICTED to it, right? Only a true pervert would stoop so low as to call their vices a true disease. But too bad for me, I became one of those perverts.

My first sexual encounter was with Derrick Harrington when I was nineteen. I had known him as a friend since I was a kid, and we had always joked that we'd have perfect Nazi-app roved blonde children. When we began "hanging out" the summer of freshman year of college, it seemed like it was right. Soon, we weren't satiated with just a simple kiss and things progressed rather quickly. So when he showed me that he kept a condom in his wallet "just in case" I kind of knew where everything was headed. So I shaved my legs, spritzed on some perfume, and let nature take its course. We were both young so it was pretty innocent, we pretty much giggled through the whole thing, but it was nice. Hardly anything to become obsessed with. Or so I thought.

That fall Derrick was switching colleges to start a new major, taking him all the way across the country. We talked about it and decided we could handle a long-distance relationship; we were mature enough. We called, we wrote, it was young love. I missed him terribly, but I knew he'd be back in time for Christmas so I promised myself that I'd wait patiently until I saw him again. Little did I know that temptation was waiting for me right around the corner.

His name was Josh Hotz, and his name described him absolutely perfectly. He had wavy black hair, so thick and full, just waiting for a pair of hands to run through it. He had huge dark eyes that shone whenever he looked even remotely in your direction, and his heart-shaped lips were a natural muted raspberry that added the perfect feminine asset to his masculine chiseled cheekbones. He had just moved to New York from Boston and we had many lively debates of Yankees versus Sox. I told him about Derrick, he wasn't a secret. But for some reason my body was just BEGGING me to break my vows as one half of the Blonde Brigade and just go for it. And one month before Derrick was scheduled to arrive home, I did.

My body felt satisfied as my mind raced. I knew that I had done something so horrible, but my thoughts just kept evolving into memories of Josh's toned torso. I knew there was no way I could salvage anything I had with Derrick so I called him and told him we were through, and it was my fault. I decided to spare him the details, why throw salt on the wound? It had absolutely nothing to do with him; it was my own selfish acts that led to this. So I figured I'd try and build something with Josh.

Unfortunately for me, that didn't work either. I mean we had an active and extremely lively sex life, but I soon grew bored with him. Sure he was physically perfect, but there wasn't anything else there. I missed Derrick; I knew that he and I at least had some connection outside of the bedroom. So after tinkering with my Greek god for a month or so I dropped him too. He just wasn't attracting me the way he used to, and I found myself staring at Calvin Klein ads for any inkling of satiation.

I never told Layne, my best friend, why I had let two guys slip through my fingers in such a short amount of time, especially two guys that were both so perfect in every sense of the=2 0word. They were both perfect for me, and any girl. She assumed I was depressed so she invited me to spend the holidays with her and her family. I figured I had nothing to lose and she was just trying to be helpful, so I thanked her with a smile and boarded a train to the Abeley household.

Of course in my small-mindedness I had totally lapsed on the fact that Layne had an older brother, Chris, and that of course he was going to come home for Christmas as well. When I saw him I thought I was looking at one of those models I had been ogling in my privacy. He had let his buttery blonde locks flop over his gorgeous eyes, and he smiled in a friendly and inviting way. Plus he had gotten an equestrian tattoo on his left arm that acted as a highlighter for his flawless body. I bedded him by the first night.

I figured I could keep the whole Abeley slip-up a secret but of course I had no such luck. Apparently when Mrs. Abeley was in Chris' old room looking for a present she had hidden for Layne, she found a condom wrapper on the bed. For all of the physical beauty of Chris Abeley, he was the dumbest son of a bitch you would ever meet, and I had even known that when I was corrupting him. Well unlike their offspring, the rest of the Abeley clan was not idiotic so by process of freaking elimination they figured out I had gotten it on with their absent-minded Adonis. Layne promptly and rightfully so kicked me out.

I felt terrible; I mean20I had been a best friend to Layne since we were really little, even younger then when I had met Derrick. I didn't want to ever cause her any heartache, or in this case, mental disturbance. I kicked myself for letting my libido get in the way of my better judgment, but I promised myself I wouldn't slip up again.

Then as I wandered the streets, knowing my train wouldn't show up for another hour I decided to get a quick snack at the 7-Eleven. Between the emo guy behind the counter and the way he shook the slushie machine when it wouldn't distribute the correct amount of syrup, I was standing up getting serviced in a filthy stall with urinals flushing in the background. I think that guy's name was Benny. Or Barry. Something with a B. Hell it may have even been Steve; I didn't and couldn't have cared less. But I kind of realized at that moment when my head was knocking against a metal wall reading "Musta bin sumthin I 8" that I had an issue.

Of course I didn't want to admit that my raging libido couldn't be tamed. I figured if I just went home again I could get my life, and my pants, back together. Besides the fact that I was drooling over those damn Calvin Klein ads, and soon some dirtier shit, I assumed that I could easily control any urges I had. So I boarded the train and limited myself to some Ladies Home Journal or some crap like that, anything not sexy. That was when I met Kemp.

Apparently he was going home for Christmas, back20to grand old Westchester. He was majoring in literature or drama or some shit like that. He seemed like a nice enough guy but I had to admit he was the ugliest motherfucker I had ever encountered. I mean it wasn't his fault, he just had really un-kept hair, a true starving artist, but was inexplicably pudgy. He carried a guitar with him and told me about all the places he played and all the songs he had written. Honestly, it was nothing I was even remotely interested in, but there was this certain aura about him that sort of drew me in even though it repulsed me in a way.

We got off at the same stop but had to go in separate directions, but I had already written my number on a napkin with some eyeliner that I stuffed into his guitar case, so I figured this may not be over. I guess his appearance really spoke volumes because he called me the very next day, poor desperate thing. We agreed to meet up two days later at this Atomic Wing. Great, just what I needed, something hot and spicy.

So I practically locked myself in my room as to not get myself into anymore trouble, cursing myself that I had even made a date with Kemp. But, not being out in public only remotely helped. Being trapped in a small dorm doesn't leave you many options but a computer just waiting to be used. So I banged You Tube and a bunch of other sites out, milking them for all they were worth. God, why were those models so SEXY? And why did so many celebrities have to get started in the porn industry?

I kept shooting myself death glares, as I got ready to go to the freakin chicken shack thing. Why was I such an idiot? So I walked over and saw a little lump in skinny jeans and a vintage T- shirt and I turned my lip up in disgust. He even combed his ridiculous hair in a ponytail. He looked even pudgier in broad daylight as opposed to a dingy midnight train terminal. He had this stupid grin on his face and flowers in his hand. Yeah, freaking daisies. Then he gave me this hug that I couldn't help melting into. Plus I couldn't help noticing that this guy smelled amazing.

We ate these absolutely rancid Buffalo wings and celery sticks that I had to keep dunking into this knockoff Ranch dressing to even gag down. The dressing however did little to cool off my flaming loins that kept panging me with that familiar begging sensation. My mind was disgusted but my lower body was extremely aroused. He lifted a single eyebrow at me and I almost jumped across the freaking table at him. God I was pathetic. Instead of the table jump though, we ended up in the backseat of his car. It was this really beat up Chevy with this disgusting brown pleather interior, but of course that didn't stop me from pushing it out on top of numerous discarded Burger King and KFC wrappers. He panted in satisfaction; I just glared up at the furry ceiling.

After that day I decided to try to seek professional assistance. My counselor's name w as Cam, and my God he was absolutely precious. He had these soft black curls that made him look like Clark Kent, especially in this setting. He had the most interesting eyes I had ever seen, one was green and the other was blue. He was my age, just a college kid who was going to major in psychology, and for his internship he dealt with the perverts. Apparently the medical world didn't think sex addiction was a legitimate affliction either.

Nonetheless I was content with Cam trying to help me out. He was extremely nonjudgmental even when I told him about the late nights in front of my television. He asked me why I was seeking so much intimacy, or lack thereof. Of course I had no fucking clue, but he seemed to trace my obsessive tendencies back to being "abandoned" by Derrick, the "unattainable goal". He thought that when I couldn't have him, I started running around trying to fill the void with the same feelings. But of course I didn't love any of the guys I was staining. I knew he made sense, but for some reason his words weren't as interesting to me as his leather jacket, or better yet, what may be lurking underneath it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I still don't own the Clique. Oh well!**

Cam didn't instantly gratify me, and I think that's what made me want him even more. He said I was welcome to come and talk to him anytime, whenever I felt comfortable. So I'd show up whenever I thought about Barry or Kemp or when I'd screw some random waiter or classmate. I even hired a male stripper once. I think at some point my20goal was to shock Cam into my bed. Like maybe by telling him how I charmed all of these guys into my clutches, he'd grow curious and maybe want to explore my cavern.

However, this never quite happened. No matter how many notches I added to my belt, he remained on the outside, uninterested and unconcerned. I told him on several occasions that I thought he was absolutely adorable. He'd smile a little bit, but would professionally tell me our dating was absolutely out of the question. I wanted him so bad that I just kept persisting. It wasn't until I saw him outside of that office that anything happened.

Having just been announced negative from my latest pregnancy scare, I decided to treat myself to a dinner out at this cute little local restaurant. As I was sipping water at my tiny table for one, who did I see sitting at the bar but Cam himself. I smoothed my skirt and walked over to him with a smile asking if he'd care to join me for dinner. He seemed reluctant but I promised I'd tell him about my latest one-lined EPT so I guess he was charmed and took a seat across from me. I was ecstatic.

In our sessions Cam had told me I was attracted to him because he was the first male since Derrick to take an interest in me outside of a sexual relationship. I pointed out that one fling I had with this guy named Dempsey had ended in him proposing to me, but Cam promptly pointed out that Dempsey had also thought I was having his kid at the time. Well, all I knew was that at that moment when Clark Kent was sitting across from me all I wanted to do was nibble on those soft lips that had smirked at me so many times. I knew that my attraction to him ran deeper then just wanting him to be my latest conquest. I just had to convince him of that.

As he sat across from me I told him about my morning as promised, but I decided it was time to get to know him a little bit better. I asked him about himself, trying to show him that I was mature. Cam's blue-eyed brow arched, but he seemed pretty happy to share some details of his life. I asked if he was attached and he said he wasn't, so I was convinced I could make him mine. Aside from the looks the sexy water boy was sneaking me, my full attention was on him.

After our meal I so desperately wanted for Cam to come home with me, but he refused. He did however hug me goodnight close enough for me to breathe in his overpoweringly sexy cologne. I swear my eyes rolled back in my head in pure lust. He just told me goodnight again firmly, and advised me to stay out of trouble tonight. As much as I wanted to appease him, I just happened to meet up with that water boy as he was on his cigarette break and nature kind of took its course.

After that magical night (with Cam, not the water boy...God that boy didn't even know which end was up...) I just kept pushing more and more for him to at least give me a chance. Cam just smiled and said he thought of me as a friend, just a highly obsessive one that he had to reign in. Even though this was not the title I was seeking, it would have to do for the present tense. Meanwhile, it seemed that I had acquired a taste for really skinny guys with no muscle tone whatsoever, God only knows why. Most of them probably weighed about 95 pounds soaking wet with a few rocks in their pockets, but that didn't hinder me in the slightest from crushing them against me bed frame. Cam said I was searching for someone like Derrick to tower over me and fit me under his arm. I told him I was searching for him.

After months and weeks of persisting, I finally got Cam to go out with me...sort of. What happened was he needed someone to go with him to a meeting at his school for all of the psychology majors. Apparently I was his most frequent client/subject so I was a frontrunner to escort him. I didn't quite get the point in the whole event, it seemed pretty made up, but I was ecstatic. I picked out the perfect (sexy!) outfit and did my makeup expertly, convinced that this was my big chance.

Well contrary to by hopes that the event was something Cam made up just to take me out; it was completely legitimate and completely boring. I would have nodded off sixty times if it weren't for the fact that I was in a room full of young guys, and even the ugliest nerds were turning me on in the freakiest ways. I was also aware of the number of times people asked if I was his girlfriend, I even got fiancée once. I smiled brightly, letting Cam do all the denying. If it were up to me I'd have had him pinned to the table, but of course I had to cross my legs and fight temptation.

At one point in the night Cam got up to speak about his particular "research" which apparently I was a huge contribution to. My name was mentioned at least twice in his speech, and I couldn't do anything but undress him with my eyes. Yet, I couldn't help but notice that he looked at me while he was up on his podium, and not just in a platonic way. I winked at him and clapped extra hard when he concluded.

I suppose when he was speaking, he realized how much progress I really have made in my "counseling". With the help of soon-to-be Dr. Cam I had went to about nine guys a week down to...almost none. I guess I was in love with him, at least a little bit, and he was really all I wanted at the moment. I told him that we made a wonderful power couple, and we should further our relationship. I guess against his better judgment, he accepted me into his world, at least for that one night. We went out for some after-hours pancakes down at the campus IHOP, and I could just TELL he was thinking about me differently. I couldn't describe my joy even if I tried.

Two or three days after that night I went to go find him in his "office". Apparently the night had been a huge success, all thanks to the combination of him and I. Then he looked around and asked if I'd like to go out with him, in a non-professional, non-coincidental, non-sexual (DAMMIT!!) setting. Despite my dismay about the last tagline, I said yes very happily. I knew I'd get to him one day.

For some reason as I was curling my hair for my Official Night Out with Clark Kent I thought about Derrick. In all honesty I hadn't seen him in over a year, probably even over 18 months. I was sort of bummed when I thought about everything that I had thrown away, not just that one summer of romance, but also so many years of great friendship. But now I had my sights focused on Cameron Fisher, and maybe one day when I was married and had popped out a little guppy or two, I would be strong enough to talk to him again. Because despite everything, I did never stop loving him.

For the big night Cam and I went to this off-campus club called Barney's. At first I thought of a shoe store, but this was no couch-cushion, well-carpeted, soft music playing in the background place. No, this was an underground emo-band type joint that I would never have placed in the backdrop of my dear sweet Cam. To top it off he was wearing these super tight black jeans and I think I detected some guy liner. At first I was half-disappointed that he wasn't just my sexy Clark Kent, but then I realized this guy was a FREAK. So I happily rocked out with him until I found the perfect time to show him what I was made of. I don't care how slutty it was; I just sat right on his lap and stuck my tongue in his mouth. And let me tell you, he was far from opposed. Once he got over the initial shock, his mouth loosened up nicely, and I could feel his hands wandering. This was PERFECT!

Well, as much as I wanted to rip those skinny ass Levi's off of his adorable ass, we got no further then that kiss that night. I hate old-fashioned guys. But, apparently he liked what he saw because he was ready for round two, another emo club, Black. He and I wasted absolutely no time ditching the techno beats on the dance floor to get cozy in some dark corner. I knew he wanted it as much as I did, but I could still feel him pulling back from me, it wasn't until we were in this third place Flashback, making ourselves comfortable of course, that I guess he was too buzzed to think logically. He asked me to his apartment. Of course I agreed.

He had this cute little one-bedroom place that seemed ideal for Cam's split personality. In one corner was a computer on a neat little organized desk, in the other was this huge speaker system with all of these CDs sprawled everywhere. Of course, I didn't have much time to observe my surroundings before I finally quenched my thirst. It was exactly like I had envisioned, only better. You really don't know good sex until you whip off some little nerd's glasses and let him have at you. I could tell by his face that he had been waiting to throw me in the sack for a while too, which just iced the cake for me.

I had tested negative for pretty much everything that you can test for, how, I'm not exactly sure. Cam knew this from our encounters in his little office, but that didn't stop him from getting nervous. The next day I could see he had a mix of fear, worry, shame, and just a twinge of satisfaction in his face. In my nudity I just hugged him and told him there was nothing to worry about, I was clean. However, something tells me it wasn't the potential STD or infant or whatever that scared the shit out of him, I think he realized that he was in love with me.

Well the Fish and I had a whirlwind courtship for a few good months, all in love and crap like that. Plus I didn't cheat on him, which was absolutely splendid. I forced him into bed at least a billion times since the first time he let his guard down to me, and I was sure he pretty much enjoyed it. He was the firs t guy who I wasn't nauseated to be with, and who I didn't grow bored with. I figured that I was in love and I'd probably marry him. Those little guppies seemed to be just a few yards away, over the finish line to my perfect life. That was until the summer.

Cam and I had just finished up junior year, and his parents invited him to come for Fourth of July weekend since they hadn't seen him since Christmas. He happily agreed, and I guess not extremely surprisingly he invited me to come along. I was absolutely jubilant, this was The Step. I was going to meet his family. Now there was no DOUBT in my mind that we were going to end up together, So we packed our bags and jetted off to Florida, their new home.

We arrived on the 2nd, and it was just the best day ever. His parents knew about the unconventional way we met and her surprisingly very accepting of both our relationship and me. I impressed them with my knowledge of the area, my hometown. I could see the giddy side-glances at Cam from his mother. We were all going to be one big happy family. At least for that one perfect day.

Then the absolutely worst thing happened to me. The very next day Cam's older brother Harris came into town, tall, dark, and extremely handsome. At first I thought I could put everything behind me and just truck forward. I made polite conversation, asked him what he did. But oh my God it was like a recovering alcoholic being thrust into October Fest, this guy, and unfortunately my pelvis were just pleading for me to do the deed. But I knew I loved Cam. I had worked so hard for him; we were going to have a guppy. A guppy! But, one patriotic Speedo and a party of ignorant passersby later, I had pulled an Abez again. Only this time it was two times worse.

I can just see what happened next in slow motion. Stupidly enough Harris and I had run off to what was going to be Cam's room for the weekend and forgotten to lock the door. I swear I could SMELL the doorknob turning and then from under this mound of masculine beauty by eyes met a pair of bicolored eyes that I was in love with. Harris jumped off of me and the three of us just started for a solid five minutes. Even the air was still until Cam just closed his eyes and silently closed the door. I heard his footsteps leading downstairs. That was the last time I saw him.

Now I'm on a plane back to New York, just stewing in my own wrongdoings, I didn't even get to watch the fireworks with him. The moment that could have validated our love and my monogamy was now miles behind me. The worst part was that I wasn't kicked out. I just got up from the bed, packed and came here; I knew I had ruined it, just like I ruined it with Derrick all that time ago. Now all I can do is sit here and wait. I guess some people can never be cured, even from an imaginary disease.


End file.
